


Bloody Forest

by CreepyTauron529



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood Magic, M/M, Rough Sex, The moon aproves, darkStiles!, poor forest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:17:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreepyTauron529/pseuds/CreepyTauron529
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only now with the bitter copper liquid staining his teeth and running down his chin to drip into the plaid shirt he wore did Stiles truly begin to know what Deaton had been trying to warn them about. He smiled, sharp and red flicking his tongue out to wet his plump lips. Let the Madness rule.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody Forest

**Author's Note:**

> Takes off from after season three. A twisted drabble born from listening the song used in the new Game of Thrones season three trailer. Couldn’t help myself. Enjoy.

 

Bloody Forest

 

 

 

Deaton had told them that the Nematon would affect them, turning Beacon Hills into a beacon once more and stirring a darkness inside them. 

As Stiles watched the blood spread out on the damp forest floor, steam rising from the warmth still held in the red liquid he thought on the man’s words which at the time had seemed so insignificant compared to the horrors they were facing. Only now with the bitter copper liquid staining his teeth and running down his chin to drip into the plaid shirt he wore did Stiles truly begin to know what Deaton had been trying to warn them about. 

He smiled, sharp and red flicking his tongue out to wet his plump lips. 

Let the Madness rule. 

 

 

It was summer once more. The suns warm rays filled the days with hot and humid air. People avoided the day, staying close to the cold of indoors in vain. 

The night however was cooled by the moon. It was in that time that creatures would start to go bump in the night. 

 

Stiles watched from the bar of Jungle as couples paired off and began to dance in twisted clothed foreplay. He didn’t join the crowd until he had a victim picked out, someone who would be too drunk of pleasure happy to refuse him. He’d come from the dark parts of the club once he was ready, target in sight and move through the crowd until his body was pressed tightly against the chosen human. 

He would rub his body against them, trailing teasing fingers up arms and over chests. Ghosting his lips over any surface of skin and letting his moist breath leave trails of goose bumps in his wake. He’d grind and hump against any hardness of arousal allowing his body to speak for him, hinting at the promise of pleasure. Once they made the final verbal move of seduction, he’d snatch them up with his hands and lips before leading his prey out of the club. 

He’d suggest they drive out to the woods, hinting at the excitement he found in the dirt and leaves which would stick to his slick skin turning him into a creature of pleasure and wildness. 

Clothes would be shed leaving saliva from frantic kisses in their wake. Nails would press into the skin of backs, arms and legs as prep was taken into account. Fingers would be covered in saliva and lube to be pressed into pink holes and stretched, made ready for the slick hardness that would either bring pleasure of pain. Neither of which Stiles minded. 

 

He was done playing around with his chosen partner. He deemed himself prepped enough to chase away agony and give way to rough pleasure. He goaded his partner into pinning him to the forest floor, trying to get the other man into the wild state he would need for this. He wanted his partners to feel the wild abandon before he’d kill them. 

They fought in the dirt, leaves sticking to their skin as they tumbled around trying to remain on top. Stiles was rolled harshly onto his belly and before he could roll to the side again a hard body pinned him down forcing his cock into the cool ground and his face to be smeared with dirt. 

Arms were braced against his back with a large hand grabbing at his flesh until he was pulled up with his rump in the air, slick hole exposed to the cock awaiting it. He’d have a moment to struggle before his hole would be forced open by the hard cock he’d bee teasing. 

It would be burning at first, when the first few dozen ruthless thrusts speared him open, but soon he would feel the flush of being filled and roughly taken. 

His partner’s weight pressed him to the ground fully, the cock inside him pulling cries and wails from his open mouth. He grabbed at the earth but only made gouges in the ground with his fingers until he was covered from his forearms to finger tips in dirt. 

His own cock was left alone, swinging in time with the brutal thrusting. His partner’s balls would slap against his flesh with each lunge and grind. His prostate finally found in the resulting cries which only spurred the man on. 

Stiles could feel the rawness of his hole, how it was sore from the rough handling and burning. The cock inside was large and stretching him full leaving him unable to escape the pleasure the pounding provided for his prostate. He was being strung tighter by the impending orgasm he could feel staring in his belly. 

It was the hard hand around his cock that brought him off the cliff into pleasure that made him snap. He wailed to the moon, cry pitching with each lunge the cock would give into him prolonging his pleasure and milking him of his come which splattered the ground beneath him. 

Finally he sagged into the forest floor, unable to keep himself up any longer. His breathing harsh and hurried, almost sobbing. 

Rough hands turned gentle as he was pulled into a more comfortable position against the ground. His head cushioned by his arms, still on his belly with one leg pulled up to his chest leaving him exposed still, the hard cock inside shifting slowly in grinding increments. Once he was fully shifted and content he nodded for the man to continue, to find his pleasure in Stiles’ body.

He didn’t need to wait long. The thrusting continued at a slower pace but no less harsh, pulling chocking cries from him as his sensitive and sore hole was used once more. Stiles reached out and grabbed him hoodie which had been discarded, pulling it to his chest and mouth allowing it to soak up his cries and wails. 

When the man got more frantic, Stiles pushed him off and pinned the man to the forest floor before pushing his red hole onto the wet cock once more, ridding the man as pleasure once again danced up Stiles spine. 

Hands braced against a muscled chest, Stiles bounced down hard, the sore pulse adding to his pleasure. He watched as the man underneath him grabbed his hips and fucked up into him, holding him immobile and unable to stop the harsh pounding that was drawing pained cries from Stile’s pained throat. He hel d on trying to keep himself relaxed and able to welcome the cock into him body waiting for the moment when he could finally finish his attack. 

The stuttering of the hips he sat on had Stiles leaning forward until he could reach the knife he’d stashed in the inside pocket of his dark red hoodie. His hand gripped the handle and when his partner cried out and slammed inside once more Stiles quickly drew the knife across his victim’s throat as he too climaxed. 

Stiles rode the man for the duration of him orgasm, rocking his hips until he finished. 

Looking down he saw the smooth cut across the throat gape and move as the man finally understood what happened. The dilated pupils looking from the knife held in Stile’s hand to the red blood warming the skin of the man’s chest, dripping down his flat body onto the forest beneath him. 

It didn’t take long for the man to bleed out, the cock inside him shrinking with each frantic push of the heart until it slipped from Stile’s body laying flaccid against the man’s thigh. 

Leaning forward Stile’s dragged his mouth over the cut throat gathering the blood there and rolling its rich liquid on his tongue. Another death to add to his list of victims, another ritual that gave him more power from the sex magic he reformed before killing the man. 

He opened his closed eyes to look blissfully at the moon, still astride the dead man. He grinned at the pure white of the moon, showing his sharp teeth and wicked tongue before slinking off into the night leaving the body and clothes to be burned away by the fire he left. 

Walking through the forest naked and covered in blood, leaves, dirt and come he smirked at the howls of the wolves who’d once again knew what he’d done. 

He laughed and danced threw the undergrowth as the pack started their hunt of him. 

Let them try to catch him. 

He could never be contained. 

The moon was in his favor.


End file.
